Teeter Totter
by crescent-moon-demon
Summary: *AU* Back and forth -like a see-saw, life trembles on a delicate balance, that dips a little one way or another but always center. What happens if the scales tip too far though? Mech/Mech slash, Language, Angst, mentions of violence
1. Chapter 1

**C.M.D: This is a somewhat oldish idea I had, when, thinking to myself a short time after reading Megatron's Origins, I wondered to myself... What must Soundwave's life have been like before the war? And then I thought, if things played out differently, how and where the war might have started differently than IDW dictated in their stories. I was also thinking about sparklings and cute, little Tracks~  
Thus, this fic came to be...**

* * *

_He didn't like Sunstreaker!_

_"Waaahh!"_

_"Oh, no... Sunstreaker, Tracks, what happened?," the teacher said, approaching the two sparklings._

_Tracks bawled from where he sat on the ground. "S-sunny p-pushed me!," he cried._

_"I did not!," the other sparkling protested. He crossed his arms over his chest, pouting angrily. "He falled by himself!"_

_"Sunstreaker...," the femme sighed. Always with these two... "It's not nice to push others. You need to apologize to Tracks and be nice, or else you can go stand in the corner."_

_At her warning, Sunstreaker tensed up. He pouted more, before sullenly turning to Tracks. The little corvette was getting to his pedes now, wiping at his damp cheekplates. "I'm... sorry...," the yellow sparkling muttered._

_Tracks was silent for about a nanoklik, then he suddenly lashed out, kicking Sunstreaker in the shin and dashing off._

_"Tracks!," the teacher yelled after him exasperatedly, as Sunstreaker began to howl in pain._

_Tracks found himself a nice cozy place to sit and cry in peace, in the bushes at the back of the Kindergartener's schoolyard. He wasn't really upset that Sunstreaker had pushed him -they did that sort of thing often to each other, unfortunately- but he was furious because once again his "supposed" friend had called him ugly and said his wings were stupid. Tracks knew he was different from the other sparklings because of his wings, but he normally didn't mind, until someone said something awful about them, shattering the little corvette's confidence. Then he'd get so angry and hurt that he'd start crying, like he was now._

_"S-stupid S-sunstreaker...!," he hiccupped, pulling his knees to his chestplates. "I-i-i am pretty!"_

_The shaking of branches to his left followed the sparkling's vehement declaration, startling him. "W-whose th-there?," he choked, turning to the sound. "S-sideswipe, i-if that's you, g-go away! I don't l-like you or S-sunny right n-now!"_

_The branches stopped shaking for a couple astroseconds, before another sparkling was pushing them apart, stepping into Tracks' little clearing. "Y-you're not Sideswipe...," Tracks mumbled, looking up at the other. He was a mech, about the same size as the corvette, with a navy blue paintjob and wearing a visor and mask._

_For about a klik, they just stared at each other, before the unknown sparkling was reaching into subspace and pulling out a little handkerchief. He held it out for Tracks to take; who, remembering that he had previously been crying, hurriedly took the offered clothe and wiped at his optics and cheekplates. "T-thank you...," the winged sparkling said, when he was done. He lifted his arm to give the handkerchief back to the other mech, but he just shook his helm, silently gesturing for Tracks to keep it._

_"Oh...okay... T-thank you, again." Silence fell between them for a few astroseconds, where Tracks deliberated what to do next. Eventually, he awkwardly patted the ground beside him, inviting the blue 'bot to sit with him._

_The stranger did so, settling in quietly beside the corvette._

_"...I don't think I've seen you before," Tracks commented, resting his chin on his knee joints. "Are you new?"_

_The sparkling shook his helm._

_"Oh...," the other mech mumbled. His lip components pouted in confusion. "You don't really talk much, do you?"_

_A slow nod this time. It fell quiet again for a few more kliks before the blue sparkling gestured to Tracks' cheekplates. At the unexpected attention, the small corvette blushed, touching his face in embarrassment. "Sunstreaker... he... he pushed me and said my wings were stupid, ugly sticks," he explained to his silent companion. "I...I didn't like what he said."_

_The other mech cocked his helm, seeming almost offended that the lamborghini twin had made fun of Tracks. He reached out, gently patting the multi-coloured sparkling on his helm. Tracks' blush increased at the contact; burying his chin deeper into his knee joints. "Do... You think I'm pretty, right?"_

_Again, the quiet sparkling nodded his helm._

_Beaming in contentment now, Tracks stretched out his legs, no longer feeling sad and anxious. He wanted to ask if the blue 'bot wanted to play with him, when suddenly the school bell rang. Recess was over for the time being. "C'mon!," Tracks chirped, scrambling to his pedes. "We've got to go back now."_

_He held out his servo for the other mech to take, smiling brightly when his quiet companion did so after a moment. Almost dragging the blue sparkling along, Tracks headed out from the bush and back to his classmates._

_"Hey, do you want to be friends?," he asked, as they made their way across the playground._

_The second kindergartner seemed surprised by the proposal. His visor dimmed and flashed -no doubt, his optics quickly shuttering behind the red glass- before he once more slowly nodded. Tracks couldn't believe how happy he felt at that hesitant confirmation. His wings fluttered in his excitement!_

_"Ah, Tracks; there you are," the teacher greeted, as she did her helm count of the sparklings pushing to get through the door and into their class. "And you've brought Soundwave along with you. That's good. Just head inside and take your seats then, boys."_

_"So, your name is Soundwave!," Tracks noted, turning to face his new friend. Their servos were still clasped tightly. The corvette smiled brightly, his wings still moving behind him. "I'm Tracks. We're going to be the best of friends!"_

* * *

**xXxXx**

* * *

"Oooh...Primus, yes, there! Aahh!"

The winged mech arched into his assailant, as denta and glossa nibbled away at his neck cables; groping servos winding down to his aft. They cupped the heated plating there, pushing their two codpieces together. Pinned by his partner to the storage room wall, the more verbal 'bot could only gasp and moan as his frame was continuously pleasured, waiting for the moment when the foreplay would stop and the real action would begin.

So distracted were the two in their activities that they didn't notice the turning of the doorknob, or the exasperated sigh that came from the other side of the door. The sudden brightness of the room though grabbed the winged mech's attentions.

"Oh...S-Soundwave?," he gasped, writhing at a particularly good bite. His partner startled at the name, lifting his helm and looking at the other 'bot in confusion, before he turned and took notice of the blue mech standing behind them in the doorway.

The tapedeck's visor dimmed, and he lifted the two knapsacks he carried in his left servo. "Order: come Tracks. Fact: class is about to start."

"Oh, alright," the fore-mentioned corvette sighed, pushing away his stunned companion. "Thanks for nothing," he said as he sauntered out of the storage closet, blowing a kiss to the other mech. Soundwave closed the door after him, blocking his nameless partner from sight.

"Which class do we have now?," Tracks yawned, pulling a pocket mirror from subspace and checking himself over. When he was sure he looked beautiful, as always, he put the mirror away before taking his bag back from Soundwave. They started walking down the hallway, the blue mech slightly leading.

"Destination: History," his friend answered. "Status: three kliks before class begins."

"That much time?," the corvette whined. "Slag, Wavey. I could have at least gotten an overload in that time frame."

Soundwave wisely did not comment on that last bit. After having been friends with Tracks for stellar cycles, the tapedeck had come to accept certain things about the corvette. Like, his preference to sleep around with any 'bot that caught his fancy that orn -or that very cycle. Usually, it wasn't such a concern, but sometimes, Tracks' interfacing habits got in the way of important things in his life. School, for example. It didn't help either that almost no one refused the winged mech's offer for an interface. Why would they? A sexy, talented, drop-dead gorgeous 'bot like himself?

They'd have to be crazy to even think of rejecting him!

"Well, I guess that just means you're diligent," Tracks commented, as the stretch of silence between them surpassed a few astroseconds. "You always look out for me, making sure that I get to school and class on time. Plus, you're a real Rocky the way you handle those goons that try to jump us! A regular guardian angel."

The multi-coloured mech spun around, quickly pecking the older youngling's cheekvent as he wound his arm around the other's. "Your the bestest friend a 'bot could ask for, Soundwave!"

Soundwave did not reply to that comment. "Inquiry: have you even begun work on your physics homework?"

Tracks opened his mouth, before closing it and looking up at the blue mech sheepishly. "No?"

"..."

"Oh, Soundwave! You'll help me, right?," he pleaded, pressing tight against his friend's side, "Pleeeeease?"

The other youngling released a heavy intake, the only physical sign that his resolve had crumpled. "Affirmative...," he muttered, to the joy of his smaller companion.

* * *

**xXxXx**

* * *

Tracks puttered around his small apartment, humming happily to himself as he set to work. He had left-overs of a home cooked meal in the microwave, heating up, and there was a pot on the stove for some cups of hot oil. He had cleaned the place up last night, and made sure that everything was put away properly, all for Soundwave's arrival. The two of them were going to do homework tonight! Which, as previously proven, would mean that they'd get through a couple pages of work before Tracks managed to convince his friend that he couldn't sit still doing equations a nanoklik longer and then they'd spend the rest of the night watching old video files. The corvette had already pulled his favourite out of the shelf; Breakfast at Tiffany's. He just couldn't get enough of those classic romances.

Smiling to himself, Tracks finished setting the last of his school things on the tiny kitchen table, just as the doorbell rang. Wings fluttering with excitement, he called out "Coming!" before quickly checking himself in the full-length mirror he had installed near the entry way, then unlocking the door.

It opened outwards, revealing Soundwave on the other side. He looked utterly miserable, having just walked through a massive downpour from the train stop. "O-oh," Tracks smiled wryly, lifting a servo to his lip components as he tried not to laugh. "C'mon, get in. We'll get you dried off immediately."

The tapedeck allowed himself to be led inside by those slender servos, and taken directly to the washrack. Tracks turned the dryer on, pushing Soundwave before the vents until he was satisfied his friend was dry enough; shutting the machine down, and pulling out a can of wax. He held it out questioningly for the blue mech, who only shook his helm, heading for the washrack door. "You know, one of these days, I am gonna strap you down and give you a good wax. Not that you don't look great or anything, but a little extra glean doesn't hurt," Tracks commented, following after Soundwave.

Soundwave merely walked into the kitchen, pulling his own things from subspace and setting them on the table besides Tracks'. "Have you eaten?," the corvette asked, heading to the stove. His oil had boiled and could now be served. Pouring it into two mugs, he added a few sprinkles of ground energon into the black liquid, before giving them both a stir.

"Affirmative," the tapedeck replied.

"Awww, that's too bad," Tracks mock pouted. "Well, I've put some left-overs in the microwave for dinner, so if you want any, just say so. Or we can whip up something else for a snack."

Soundwave took the mug held out for him, setting it down on the table.

The multi-coloured mech noticed this. Confused, he looked up at his friend. "...you're not going to drink it?"

The tapedeck slowly shook his helm.

"...You know, once before, you would have showed me your face if I had asked...," Tracks mumbled, hurt. "What's changed?"

Soundwave did not respond.

Sighing, the winged 'bot slipped into his own seat, grabbing his physics datapad. "So, chapter three..."

* * *

**C.M.D: And don't I just _jump_ right into the angst. Ah well~ Angst is my most frequent and loving muse... the vile goddess... At least the ideas never stop when she's around, and I do so love scheming away.  
Interested in what comes next? What to know what happened between Soundwave and Tracks that slowly stuck a nail in their friendship? Stay tuned to find out!  
Be kind; give me your mind~ REVIEW please?**


	2. Chapter 2

**C.M.D: It's that wonderful time of the month again- Update Time! I must say, I was quite happy to see that there were a fair amount of people interested in this story. With every new fic, there's always that niggling doubt that I'll eventually write something that people have absolutely no interest in reading... I must say, such a notion can be quite haunting. But, that doesn't seem to be the case here. Rock on! ^ ^ THANK YOU FOR REVIEWING: Crazygrrl XD, Moonlight black rose, Sounddrive, mrsharrypotter, Camfield and Decepticon Skywhip, for being some of my very first reviewers! You are guys are awesome~  
Now, read on!**

* * *

_Two sparklings ran across the field; one laughing happily and the other attempting to keep up._

_"T-tracks...," the second one gasped. He said nothing more, almost stumbling as he tried not to lose his friend, but his one worded plea had caught the other's attention._

_"Ah, Soundwave...," Tracks giggled, stopping and waiting for the tapedeck to catch up. "You're supposed to keep up!"_

_The blue sparkling nodded his helm, his intakes coming in heavily through his mask. Smiling wryly, the corvette looped arms with Soundwave, marching off to their little corner of the playground. "It's okay if you can't keep up though," he assured his friend. "I'll always wait for you."_

_"...r-really...?," Soundwave asked. They pushed their way into the bushes, finding the small alcove that they enjoyed sitting in together._

_"Of course!," Tracks exclaimed at the other sparkling's nervous question. "Hey...," the winged mech said, looking at Soundwave worriedly. "Can you breathe with that thing on?"_

_The tapedeck was still huffing and panting weakly behind his mask, but he refused to take it off. At the innocent question, he stiffened up, pulling back into himself. "...I'm not supposed to take it off...," he answered. Probably the most amount he ever said in one sentence, that Tracks had heard from him as of to date._

_"Why not?," the corvette asked, pushing in closer._

_Soundwave fell resolutely silent, shaking his helm. He almost flinched when a black servo rose to his face. Seeing that his friend was almost frightened, Tracks pulled back a little. "I-i'm sorry...," he whispered. "I just wanted to know what you look like underneath those things. I'm sorry, I won't try to take your mask off."_

_Contritely, he sat back, folding his servos on his lap neatly. The blue sparkling relaxed a little at the sight, before guilt squirmed through his fuel tanks._

_"Fact: I...I'm not pretty...," he mumbled weakly, "...like you..."_

_Tracks blushed at the comment, hunching his shoulder tires high about his helm in modesty. "I-i bet you're not ugly though," he smiled back._

_Soundwave hesitated for a moment at the unexpected compliment, before slowly lifting his servos to his face. With trembling fingers, he pulled off both visor and mask, revealing his face to his waiting companion. Tracks could not help but to gape in awe. His friend... he looked, amazing! Soft sculpted olfactory sensor was set perfectly in the middle of his face, with two pale blue cheekarches on either side. Thin lip components were pursed fearfully, and wide, magenta-coloured optics looked at him unblinkingly, waiting for his friend's approval._

_"See," Tracks grinned, his words gushing out in a happy sigh. He shifted closer to the other mech. "You're really cute looking! You should show your face more often!"_

_Soundwave's optics widened at the suggestion, violently shaking his head and hurrying to put his visor back on. "Oh, wait, please! Don't hide!," the corvette begged, gently touching the tapedeck's arm. "Not yet, please? I want to see your optics a little bit longer."_

_The blue bot's arm paused. "Just a little longer?," Tracks repeated._

_Soundwave gave him a strange look, before he slowly lowered his arm again, setting the visor down in his lap. "You'll put it back on when we have to go inside, won't you, though?," the multi-coloured sparkling said. The other mech nodded. "C-could... if I asked though, could I see your face again?"_

_It was quiet for a klik, as Tracks waited for Soundwave's response. "...status: o-only when we're alone...," the tapedeck eventually said. "Fact: n-no one else can see."_

_"Okay!," the corvette smiled, feeling calm and content once more. He leaned in real close to his friend, quickly pecking him on the lip components, like he'd seen older bots do. Soundwave made a strange little noise in the back of his vocalizer at the kiss, craning his neck back in shock. At the cute expression the other was making, Tracks couldn't help but laugh._

_"You're really pretty 'Wavey! I'm glad you're my friend."_

_A small, shy smile tugged at the corners of Soundwave's lip components. "...s-same..."_

* * *

**xXxXx**

* * *

Everything hurt...

Soundwave tried to swallow back his groan, forcing himself to stand straight, even as he hurried across the Academy's field as best as he could. He hadn't expected to be late, but certain... circumstances had kept him longer that morning. Pushing those memories to the back of his processors, archiving them and cataloguing them in a large and black-flagged folder, the blue mech tried to quicken his pace, concern for his friend coming to the fore-front of his thoughts. They were supposed to meet up in front of the Academy this morning, just like they usually did...

Tracks wasn't in sight though. That could only mean one thing.

The blue mech paused as he reached the building, leaning against its side heavily as pain racked through his frame. Wheezing through his intakes, Soundwave tried to shove on through the agony, ignoring the coolant that rose to his optics beneath his visor. He just made it inside the building when the Academy's warning bell began to ring above his helm.

Torn, Soundwave looked towards the janitor's utility closet, before turning his helm away remorsefully and shuffling off towards first period class.

* * *

**xXxXx**

* * *

His optics onlined in a flash as the shrieking bell rang loudly from outside the door, cutting through their groans and pants. Dazed and confused, Tracks struggled to push away from the wall, elbowing his partner when the mech continued to bite at his throat and paw hungrily at his codpiece. "W-would you... just stop!," the corvette snapped, shaking off the other 'bot and quickly putting some distance between them. "That was the bell! What time it is?"

"Why does it matter?," the other mech grumbled, watching as the slimmer 'bot quickly grabbed his bag, trying to throw his scattered items back into it. "It's not like you haven't ever skipped class before."

"Of course I haven't!" Tracks ignored the 'bot, more focused on the pounding starting up in his helm and the glazing heat over his optics. Soundwave always came to collect him before class, no matter the day or time! He had never let him be late before... So, what happened? Where was Soundwave? Had his friend ditched him to fend for himself, with no reason or motive?

"Skipping class is for second-rate fools like yourself," Tracks spat, his temper seeping out as his emotions flew off in several different directions, "I'm not going to lower myself to your standards. I've got pride, I've got d- ack!"

The corvette hissed as he was shoved face first into the shelves, his bag slipping from his servos and crashing to the floor again. The mech behind him snarled as he increased pressure, pushing Tracks' neck cables tight against the shelf's edge. "You've got nothing but a greasy valve, you chatty whore," his partner said lowly, his other servo pulling at a wing shortly before tickling down the multi-coloured mech's backstruts. Tracks choked, his arms trying to sweep behind him uselessly, unable to throw the mech back this time in his current position.

"You promised me a 'face, slut," the mech hissed as his servo reached the other's aft, fingertips digging deep into the seams of his codpiece, "And I'm going to get it. Whether you give it to me or not." His grip tightened, digging in painfully, causing Tracks to flinch.

Gripping the shelf shakily, tears collecting hotly in his optics, the corvette silently retracted his plating; swallowing back his whimper, as the other 'bot pressed tight against him, the sound of his codpiece sliding back before stinging pain shot up his spinal struts.

* * *

**xXxXx**

* * *

Energon ran down the drain thickly, dark and muddied as it mixed with the bleach, swirling down the drain with a nasty suck. His visor stayed fixated on their saturated colours, almost catching his own distorted reflection in the sheen of the sink's bottom. Stepping back, the sensors clicked off, stopping the flow of cleanser as he lifted a servo, replacing his mask back in his proper place with a dull snap. It pressed uncomfortably against his face, digging like pins and claws at swollen sensors, causing everything to throb.

He supposed he deserved it though...

He always did.

The door swung open behind him and the mech quickly dropped his servo from his face, content to pretend that he didn't hear the stranger's entrance. Of course, he was forced to turn around when he heard that small gasp next.

"S-soundwave...?"

Surprised, the tapedeck looked behind himself, his visor flashing in shock at the corvette staring back at him. Tracks stood by the washroom door, wings lowered behind him, his bag held in a loose servo by his side and his disbelieving optics fixed on his friend with disbelief. There was some variation of relief to be felt in Soundwave's spark, though it was quick to fade as he noticed the few smudges along the corvette's frame, especially his face, and that there was anything but kindness reflecting in the other's blue orbs.

"Y-you...," Tracks started, static lacing into his tone as he uttered the words lowly, "Where were you?" He threw his bag at Soundwave; it bounced off of the blue mech's chestplates with a flat clang, falling to the floor at his pedes. Caught off-guard by the aggressive action, he could only stare silently at the bag, before lifting his chin and returning his gaze to the upset mech.

"You were supposed to come get me! You've always come and found me!," the multi-coloured 'bot yelled, his lip components twisting with a snarl. It was the first time Soundwave had ever seen them do so. "Because of you, I w-was... I was late for class, slaggit! N-now, I'm going to be written up for it; my perfect record is ruined! And it's all your fault!"

So much vehemency, over a simple attendance record? The silent mech felt his spark lurch painfully as hatred spewed from Tracks' optics, holding him accountable for some mundane issue when every single part of his frame hurt. The pain was so great, even now, it felt like Soundwave was going to fall apart at the seams. But he'd forced himself to come, to make both the one that had done this to him and this mech before him now, happy. And now he was being blamed for his selfless actions?

Tracks stomped his pede, shaking his helm as he bit back a scream of rage. "Why are you doing this to me?," he demanded. "Have I done something to upset you? Is that why you're being such a sparkling and ignoring me as if I don't exist!"

Soundwave clenched his fists as the accusations continued, the corvette stalking up to him angrily. "Why don't you say anything? Defend yourself, slaggit! Or am I not even worth the effort of your fragging excuses?"

Tracks' growled as his friend continued to remain silent. "What is your PROBLEM?," he screamed, unable to take the other mech's lack of response anymore. Tracks pushed Soundwave. "Frag you, Soundwave! You're acting like a major glitch and I don't-"

He felt nothing but anger. Shuttering his optics, Soundwave stared down into his friend's flared optics, venting heavily, unaware how one astrosecond they had been standing in front of each other; the next, Tracks pinned to the wall, the tapedeck holding him there with one servo clasped over his mouth. Even in the silence now, he could hear the corvette's whiny words echoing loudly all around them. All about himself; all about his own needs. Didn't Tracks understand all that Soundwave did for him on a regular basis? Of course he didn't. Why should he? It was always about 'me, me, me' for the narcissistic mech... no one existed in his little world, other than those that could serve him. It had always been that way.

Shaking with overwhelming rage, the tapedeck forced himself to release Tracks, watching with disgust as the corvette leaned weakly against the washroom wall. "S-soundwave... y-you...," the other stuttered, mouth gaping pathetically.

He needed to leave. Before he did something he knew he would regret. Turning, Soundwave made to leave, but stopped at the servos that grabbed his arm. He glanced backwards, visor dim, only to see Tracks staring back up at him with fright, his fingers twitching anxiously around the blue plating.

"Wa-wait, S-soundwave, I-"

He ripped his arm free quickly, marching straight for the door and leaving despite the weak plea that echoed flatly behind him. Ignoring the dull aching of his spark and frame as he stomped out into the hallway, Soundwave turned, heading back to his class.

Watching the door swing close on the blue mech's backstruts, his stammered words blatantly ignored, the corvette slowly let his out-stretched servo drop, feeling his knees give out underneath him; his palms clapping against the floor as he fell. It felt like he sat there for an eternity, his intakes coming in short, quiet gasps as he stared blankly down at the floor beneath him.

"I...I'm s-sorry...," Tracks whispered to no one, before he covered his face with his servos and curled into himself.

* * *

**C.M.D: ...Even as I read through this again, I cringe a little bit. Despite being the one who wrote it, I just gotta feel for Tracks some that last half there. Really, really angsty... So, Soundwave has a secret, one that he's kept even from Tracks. What is it? Could this be the nail driving apart their friendship? Or maybe it's all Tracks' fault and he deserves what's happening? For these answers, and more, please stay tuned~  
Be kind; give me your mind~ REVIEW, please?**


	3. Chapter 3

__**C.M.D: Angst, angst, angst, angst... It's that time of the month again, and I've got a lovely dosage of angst to give you all! ^ ^ THANK YOU FOR REVIEWING: electro moonlight, Crazygrrl XD and Sounddrive. I've read your reviews again and again, and it's been the lovely nudge I needed to get this next chapter prepped for this month. I only hope that you'll find some enjoyment from this update...**

* * *

_"'Wavey!"_

_The little sparkling rushed across the class room as his friend walked through the door, wrapping him tight up in a hug and chirping in delight. "Oh, 'Wavey!," Tracks said as he pulled back a little, giving the other mech his best pout, "I missed you so much when you were away! I had no one to play with!"_

_"Status: A-am... sorry...," Soundwave replied softly, his visor dim with contrite._

_The corvette waved it off quickly. "It's okay now! You came back and I'm really really happy that you did! I want you to be my friend forever, 'Wavey." Again, Tracks hugged the tapedeck, but this time, the action drew a little whimper from the other sparkling._

_Flinching at the unexpected sound, Tracks immediately pulled away from Soundwave, staring at his friend uncertainly. "W-wavey... 'Wavey, are you okay?," he asked, his servo lifted hesitantly for the blue mech._

_Soundwave said nothing for a few astroseconds; his arm lifting stiffly and his fingers winding around Tracks'. "A-affirmative," he lied, "Fact: Just a little boo-boo."_

_The corvette gasped at the statement. "Oh no! How did you get hurt? Do you want me to kiss it better?" Blue optics shuttered with concern at the tapedeck, but the quiet sparkling only shook his helm slowly._

_"Answer: a-accidentally rolled out of b-bed. Status: am o-okay." Tracks looked a little doubtful at the statement. "Inquiry: c-could... could we go play?," Soundwave quickly asked, his visor dimming a little. "Please?"_

_The fingers around his own tightened._

_The corvette was confused and just a little scared, though he didn't really know why. Swallowing slowly, Tracks nodded, deciding that it had really been a long time since he'd last seen his friend. Playing together again sounded like a really good idea. Especially if it could make Soundwave happy. "Okay, 'Wavey," the sparkling smiled, squeezing the tapedeck's servo back comfortingly. "Let's go play!"_

_Soundwave let himself be led off silently to where ever Tracks chose._

* * *

**xXxXx**

* * *

It was cold this morning...

The corvette moved through his apartment slowly, gathering his things, piling them up on the kitchen table. His homework was already there, sitting from the night before, finished and ready to be packed. All he needed was some fuel for lunch... Putting the rest of his textbooks down on the table, Tracks headed for the fridge next. It almost felt warmer when he opened the door, peering into the receptacle.

...only half a cube left...

Shuttering his optics slowly, he closed the fridge again, deciding that a lunch would be unnecessary. His fuel tanks gave a little growl of protest, but the corvette ignored them just as he did everything else. Grabbing his datapads for the orn, Tracks subspaced the heavier ones, heading out of his apartment next. The lights dimmed at his exit, sensing that no one was home any longer.

A small, yellow glow rose from a thin datapad left behind on the table; a large, flickering warning glyph written across its face.

* * *

**xXxXx**

* * *

He didn't know what to do.

Soundwave watched from across the classroom, his attention fixed wholly on the winged mech sitting all by himself. The teacher was droning on about something, no doubt important to their finals, but the tapedeck could not pay attention. His frame still ached from the week before, but the rage that had encompassed him had bled out completely now, leaving him numb and afraid.

Afraid that Tracks would never forgive him. Afraid that he'd finally pushed away the only good thing in his life...

Tracks hadn't spoken to him since that incident in the washroom. He attended every class, but chose a seat far away from the blue mech, his optics glued only to the teacher and his textbooks. When they passed each other in the hallways, his friend didn't even give him a second glance; his helm held straight and his optics focused on his next step. If they bumped paths, the slimmer mech would turn and take another route. Even Tracks' grades had kept, the corvette diligently keeping up with his studies and his attendance.

Apparently he no longer needed Soundwave's help for anything.

He was... obsolete...

Perhaps his friendship had never even meant anything to the other after all. Maybe he should just let Tracks be and-

Soundwave clenched his servo. No, he thought sadly, no, he couldn't just walk away. He wanted the other's friendship; _needed_ it, really. If he could only gather the courage to approach Tracks, maybe he could apologize then. Maybe his friend would even accept it. And then they could go back to how things used to be: him, always the other's support, helping, accompanying, caring for Tracks secretly. It would be alright, the tapedeck told himself. He could even be the corvette's look-out again for whenever he wanted to go 'face someone before class. He'd be happy. They'd be happy. They'd even-

The bell rang above their helms, announcing the end of their period and the start of lunch. Startled, it took astroseconds for Soundwave to collect his thoughts and things, standing up in his seat and looking over the helms, trying to find Tracks'. He was horrified to see that the corvette was already making his way out the door with a bunch of their classmates. Quickly, the tapedeck followed.

He stopped as he made it out into the hallway, his spark withering slightly in his chestplates. Tracks was nowhere to be found among the shoving, moving mass of mechs and femmes. And he no longer knew where the other went for his lunches these orns...

Shoulders lowering miserably, Soundwave glanced into his bag, the glow of an extra energon cube he had picked up for Tracks staring back at him mockingly.

* * *

**xXxXx**

* * *

Tracks moved fast but quietly, wings lowered stiffly, trying to hide his nervousness. Fear was an easy target in a place like this... and the corvette wanted to be anything but that. Warm and even sidewalks slowly trailed off into banged and dented ones; ragged and scratched, an indiscernible stain here and there. Scrap and other trash littered along the sides and at the curb, spilling over onto the grungy streets, and leading up staircases to equally as dilapidated low-rise apartments. Glancing quickly up at one, Tracks saw them to be filthy and stained, graffiti covering the walls and the majority of windows boarded up with cheap sheet metal.

The few that were not covered, looked like black, gaping maws; the occasional dim light peering out from the shadows.

The multi-coloured mech turned his helm back to the sidewalk, keeping his optics forward as he continued further and further into the creepy neighbourhood, highly aware of the few glances he was getting from the gang of mechs and femmes perched at some doorways. He wanted to run, he wanted to flee... But reality persisted, saying that he couldn't. He knew that.

Tracks slowed down as he came up to the only two-story house on the block, staring up at the poorly painted white walls and yellow-flecked sills and roof. It was as if the place was trying to come off as being much nicer than it really was... but instead, looking like the tainted remains of a once-innocent sparkling's toy house. Ragged curtains covered the windows and shattered crystal flowers filled the empty yard, scattered slightly over the path as Tracks walked forwards slowly.

He lifted his optics to the gaudy 'welcome' sign on the door as he walked up the stairs, feeling strangely, that maybe this is where he should be after all.

A snide voice in the back of his processor said he'd always belonged in a place like this.

His servo was knocking on the door, before the corvette was even aware of what was happening. His spark gave a momentary jolt, and he shuffled back half a step in terror, but the door swung open and it was too late to back down now. He tried not to stare at the femme that answered the door; a detached look on her face and pieces of her plating missing, showing her underwires and cables. Seeing the youngling, her expression grew distinctly annoyed. "Can I help you?," she asked shortly, "This is not a place for children."

"I...," Tracks cleared his vocalizer, staring back into the femme's optics flatly, refusing to be cowed. He needed this; needed to feed and shelter himself. This was the only thing he was good at... "I am not a customer. I came to apply for a job."

The femme's optics flared at that and her scowl immediately turned into a smile. "Really now?," she purred sultrily, studying the mech from pede to helm. "Well... I just may have a place for you yet. Come in, come in." She wrapped an arm around the corvette's shoulder tires, pulling him into the sweetly-scented lair. Tracks only had a moment to take in the gaudy, red and mauve coloured furniture and decoration, before he was being ushered into a sitting room.

A heavy-set mech, black and menacing looking, stood by the doorway; thick arms crossed over his chestplates as he scowled over everything. His yellow optics fell on Tracks as he entered the room, and the youngling quickly turned his gaze away. He did not like the way this stranger looked at him.

"Now," the femme said as she circled around him, grabbing his chin and gently turning her helm up towards her, "We will discuss profits and the shares split between yourself and I, and also whether or not you will be renting a room here as well... But, before we even get into any of that, I must first 'see' your resume." She smiled and it looked vicious upon her beautifully painted face. "Rigger here," she glanced at the black mech, "Will evaluate your performance. You understand that most of the patrons are mechs, correct?"

Tracks resignedly looked at Rigger, seeing that the scowl on his face had turned into a delighted sneer; his optics burning with lust. "...yes," he mumbled in reply. "He wouldn't be my first."

"Ah... good then," the femme chuckled darkly. "Rigger, please offer us your..._ assistance_..."

At her orders, the black mech walked forwards, his gaze fixed wholly on the corvette. Tracks only had a moment to swallow back his rising tears before the stranger put a servo on his shoulder tire, and everything else faded into a blur...

* * *

**C.M.D: I bet none of you were expecting that turn around, huh? It seems o****ur beloved pair are about to find themselves in a rougher situation than last time... And things are bound to blow up. Will they be able to pull through? Will Tracks and Soundwave ever make up? And what was that mysterious datapad that was on Tracks' table? All these answers and more, next time~  
Be kind; give me your mind~ REVIEW, please?**


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